


Still Love Me?

by Vingtieme



Category: Last of the Wine - Mary Renault, RENAULT Mary - Works
Genre: Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:57:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vingtieme/pseuds/Vingtieme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I knew not whether to thank Eros for giving man love or Prometheus for giving man fire for, at that moment, I could not distinguish between the two."</p><p>Takes place on the day when Alexias reaches manhood, directly after the scene with his mother at the end of Chapter 16. Alexias seeks out Lysis to share his special night - his first night as a man, and doubts Lysis' love when his proposal to share their bodies is rejected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Love Me?

           The night was still young, and my excitement undiminished, so I decided I would seek out Lysis. It was not every day that a boy became a man, and I had not seen him yet that day, having spent such an amount of time with my uncle Strymon at the scrutiny. Not bothering to take my walking stick, I called to my mother that I was going out, and stepped into the streets of Athens. Proudly I strode towards my friend’s house, reveling in the feel of my man’s mantle, and knowing any who saw me would know me to be an adult. It was glorifying. I was so happy that I wanted to cry, laugh, faint, and whoop with joy all at once. My body and mind were filled with that heady pleasure of wine, even having had nothing but two-thirds water for weeks due to my training regimen. I wanted to drink. I wanted to run. I wanted to fly. But most of all, I wanted to share my exhilaration with he whom I loved.

            Presently, I came upon the house of Demokrates, and politely scratched at the door. A servant answered and bade me wait while he fetched Lysis. But, having known who it must be when he heard that someone was at the door, Lysis came into the room before the servant could leave it. He dismissed his servant, and came to embrace me, grinning from ear to ear.

            “Oh, Alexias, my dear!” He cried happily, holding me by the shoulders and sizing me up in my new raiment. “What a man you make! I give you my congratulations!”

            I laughed with him, pulling him to me, my joy seeming to spill over into the room.

            “Come! My father is long asleep, but I am sure he would not begrudge us a little wine from the stores for this occasion. We shall drink to your newfound freedom as a citizen of Athens, and as a man of this world.” He put his arm around my shoulders and began to lead me from the room.

            I was at first inclined to agree, but then I pulled away, shaking my head regretfully. “Lysis, what of our training? We can’t very well show our faces at the palaestra or the arena tomorrow with our heads muddied with wine.”

            He shrugged with disappointment, but agreed. “All too true. T’is a shame. I had wished to share with you the pleasure of your first night as a man. We could have drunk until morning were it not for training, as I did when I came of age. Still, it is wonderful to have your company, my dear.”

            I do not know what made me say what I did next. Perhaps I went momentarily mad or, more likely, was intoxicated with the confidence my new white mantle gave. Either way, I drew Lysis close and whispered in his ear, “You know, there are _other_ ways I might give you a share of my pleasure.”

            Lysis’ eyes widened, and he colored, and dropped his gaze to his feet, drawing a step away from me.

            I was devastated. Absolutely paralyzed with mortification at what had been a clear rejection. Oh, _why_ had I suggested it in the first place?!

            While I inwardly panicked, Lysis remained unnervingly calm. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked up at me, squaring his shoulders for what he had to say.

            “Ahem. Alexias, you are a man today. And, as a man, there are certain… expectations… of you.”

            “Lysis I – ”

            “No, no, Alexias, hear me out.” I stood in silence, too afraid and embarrassed even to attempt an excuse for my behavior. “I blame myself for this, really. As your lover, I ought to have prepared you for what was to come. It’s just that – ” he kneaded his brow, agonizing over how best to put things. My agony was all the worse.

            “It is simply not _seemly_ for a man to… engage in that sort of activity with another man. It is all well and good when one is a _youth_ , for a youth must learn the way of things, but now you are a _man_ Alexias.” Lysis said all of this very slowly and carefully, treading lightly as he could around the matter. This did nothing to ease my pain.

            “Do you understand, my dear?” he asked, clasping my shoulder reassuringly.

           I could not look at him, and stared at the ground, wishing to sink straight into the floor. I did _not_ understand. Why was it that, now I was a man, Lysis was no longer permitted to love me? Just yesterday he could have assented to my proposal. He probably _would_ have. Readily.

           Only a few weeks ago, had he not miscast the discus upon my sudden entry of the gymnasium, distracted by my presence? Had not the others laughed at him, seeing that _I_ was the cause of his bad throw? Had he not blushed to show his lovesickness upon his sleeve? Did not his cheeks pinken at the silly jokes often made at our expense among the troupe?  Did he not kiss me? Did he not allow me to kiss him? And call him “dear”? Had he not made love to me but two months before? And were not all of these the actions of a man in love? Socrates had aroused in me a sense of these things, and I could see a fallacy in Lysis’ reasoning as plain as day. This was a refusal on the basis of mere tradition. Socrates always taught us not to blindly follow the mores of society, but to question them and make a decision in due course. Lysis should be able to love me, for how was I any different than I had been but a few hours before, as a youth? I was the same Alexias.

           I had been silent for too long, and Lysis had grown worried. Desperately, he tried to cheer me up. “Here now, Alexias, it is quite alright. No harm done. It is your special night! Cheer up!” He tried to lift my chin, but I turned my face away from him in anger. I do not think I was angry with _him_ – just with the world in general. And perhaps I was angry that he could not see things as I did.

            “Alexias, come,” he plied. “You must learn to like women sooner or later. I’ll tell you what: I’ll take you to a brothel and buy you a woman’s company for the night. It will be my gift to you, to celebrate your manhood.” He smiled tentatively at me, trying to make amends.

            “I do not _want_ a woman!” I snapped, rejecting his attempt at pax. I could not believe that, after refusing me, Lysis offered me the company of another. But, being young and passionate, I could not find the words to voice my concerns. Instead of explaining to Lysis how I felt, I lashed out, hurt and embarrassed.

           I threw my head back as I had a tendency to do when I was angry, and spat childishly, “And I suppose that makes me too _unmanly_ to be worthy of your company, Lysis son of Demokrates! Very well, I shall take my leave. I can see when I am unwanted.”

           I moved to leave, but Lysis caught my arm, and laughed, “Alexias, you’re being ridiculous!” I _was_ being ridiculous, but there was no chance I could have recognized it at that moment. I jerked my arm out of his grasp.

           “Oh _I_ am being ridiculous? Tell me, then, Lysis, is it not ridiculous that you should cease to love me for being a day older than I was yesterday?” Here I had got to the heart of the matter. Despite all of my reasoning to the contrary, there was some nagging part of me that told me Lysis loved me no longer. Perhaps he had never loved me or desired me at all, but had become my lover merely to e _ducate_ me. Nothing more. I could not bear the thought of this. I loved Lysis so, and I felt I would _die_ if he did not feel the same. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I looked away, lest he should see my weakness.

           He did, of course, and his face lit in understanding. He frowned sympathetically, genuinely sorry that he had caused me pain, and moved to embrace me. I was too distraught to push him away. “Oh, _Alexias_. Do you think that I do not _love_ you? I will _always_ love you, my dear. I was only trying to do what I thought was best for you.”

           I sniffled pitifully and buried my face into his neck. More quietly, for he had become aware that full everyone in the house had heard our argument, he continued. Leaning in close, Lysis whispered heavily into my ear, “Do not doubt that, when I saw how well you looked in your mantle tonight, I wanted only to shove you against the wall and have my way with you.”

           My eyes widened and my lips parted in shock. Lysis had _never_ spoken to me that way. His voice was so rough and… _dirty_. I felt something stir within me. Flushing deeply, I pulled away to find the truth of Lysis’ statement in his face. It was there. His eyes smoldered at me the way they always did when he made love to me. My heart pounded within my breast, and I could not speak.

           He continued hesitantly, unsure. “In fact, something to that effect still sounds very… pleasant…” His breath was hot on my neck. I couldn’t breathe. “Does your offer still stand..?”

           I voiced no answer, but took his face in my hands and kissed him with all my might. Breaking apart, we smiled at each other, he with relief, and I with an apology. “I am sorry Lysis,” I said sheepishly. “It was foolish of me to doubt you.”

           I saw now that I never should have. I remembered how worried he had seemed for me just a few weeks ago, when he had related Autolykos’ cure for the training blues – a woman halfway through. At the time I had thought he had simply been reluctant to encourage me to disobey the trainers, but could it have been that Lysis had felt jealous, yet was unwilling to selfishly tie me down? And here I had thought I was the only one who felt this way.

           Lysis took my apology readily and, with his eyes still alight with passion, he took my hand and said, “Come,” leading me off to his bedchamber.

           My heart hammered in my chest, and my breath came quickly and loudly, despite my attempts to quiet it. We crept along, not wishing to wake the house, and finally came to Lysis’ room, wherein he promptly began to kiss me within an inch of my life.

           It had been a long while since Lysis and I had shared our bodies with each other, and I reveled in the pleasure of his touch as if it were new, moaning needily into his mouth and keening softly when he worried at my throat with his teeth. Excited nearly to the point of desperation, I hastily unpinned his mantle and flung it over the back of a chair and moved to press myself against him. Lysis held me at an arms length, however, saying saucily, “You wouldn’t want to get your new mantle all dirty, now, would you?”

           I chuckled wickedly at his lascivious humor, and unpinned my mantle to throw it where my lover’s already lay. While I did this, Lysis sat on his bed and pulled off his sandals. I had come barefoot, readying myself for the race at the Isthmus. I knelt down beside him and allowed him to push me down onto the bed and straddle me, and to kiss every part of me he could reach. I always loved it when he kissed my neck, and bared it to him, to allow him better access. He obliged me, tangling his right hand in my dark curls, and then reached down with his left to take our leaking manhoods in hand. I lent him my grip as well, and clutched at his shoulder with my right hand as we moved together.

           The friction was delicious. I knew not whether to thank Eros for giving man love or Prometheus for giving man fire for, at that moment, I could not distinguish between the two. I heard Lysis above me giving little stifled moans, full of heat, between kisses, and I drank in the sight of his flushed and muscular body writhing with pleasure. For a moment I had the oddly blasphemous and adulterous thought that Lysis could be the god himself, so beautiful was he.

           The pressure built in my abdomen, and I reached my zenith, choking out Lysis’ name. A moment later, he spilled between us and collapsed, panting, onto me. I enjoyed his weight atop me. It made me feel secure. It made me feel loved. Momentarily, however, he kissed me, and moved off of the bed to fetch a cloth with which to clean us up.

           We stole down to the bathing room and washed away the signs of our lovemaking, wishing neither to be laughed at by our fellows nor scolded by our trainers for what we had done.

           We returned to bed clean and sated. This is true love, I thought, that has made me the happiest of all men. Nothing can long come between us.

           We drifted off to sleep, basking in the warmth of each other’s bodies, a pleasure we rarely allowed ourselves. I later explained to Lysis the justifications I had for continuing our relationship as it was, a man though I might be. After some discussion, he happily conceded my point, and we never again hesitated to share ourselves with one another when it was mutually desired. It didn’t matter at the moment, though. Wrapped as we were in each other’s arms, we could not have doubted the love between us.  We were supremely content.

**Author's Note:**

> Sexual relations between lovers often ceased when the younger of the pair came of age. It was considered improper because, as a man, one should become more focused on finding a wife and fathering children. It could also be, of course, that the Greeks had a culturally instilled pedophilia when it came to their youths. A youth, being in the prime of his life, was considered the most attractive of people, even above a young woman. Young boys often display a clarity of femininity that even a woman doesn't have. That's why shaving one's beard came into style - so a man could look more like a youth. When you weren't a youth anymore, well...
> 
> Also, do please notice my specific attention to using the left hand and not the right for touching. One ought not to use the same hand one eats with when touching such forbidden places.


End file.
